


Warm you up

by Modern_Death



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: F/M, tumblr reguest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 20:27:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15151187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Modern_Death/pseuds/Modern_Death
Summary: Request: Hey! Yes you! I will make you an offer that you cannot refuse. You will write me a story with Morvan Voorhis where he (after Nilfgard lose the war) abandoned his army and reader is helping him to hide by giving him shelter. Remember to make it amazing (like you always do).





	Warm you up

Morvran was a man without honor, he knew (or at least thought) that, when in the middle of night he abandoned what was left of his squad, after the message of Radovid’s successes got  to him. He always thought about himself as a patriot. Son of one of the most powerful politic at emperor’s court, maybe even the future emperor… yet those dreams and ambitions died, alongside with – once great – Nilfgaard’s power, and in near future emperor himself.  
Morvran shook his head, getting rid of those thoughts. That was almost month ago. How he survived this long? He wasn’t sure himself. He was in move since then, avoiding main paths, buying food in small inns when no one was there, or were too drunk to pay attention to him and his accent. Yet, money he got from selling his old armor and other value things he had on himself, were running thin. His horse, some half breed Redanian, became more tired every day. Morvran knew that he won’t last long. Yet, he couldn’t stop. There were no one at north that could give him a helpful hand, nor give a shelter. He was too proud to ask for one anyway. And there was no way he would come back to Nilfgaard, he would get killed at the exact same moment he would show his face there. He was a deserter, an outcast in hostile land, with no home, and no friendly souls to whom he would turn himself to, to ask for even a slice of bread.  
So absorbed in his grim  thoughts, Nilfgaardian failed to notice a sound of footsteps in nearby bushes, he also haven’t noticed a strait flying in his direction, until it was too late, and it pierced right through his right shoulder, making him shout in pain. The sound of man’s scream startled his horse, making it stand on its back legs, throwing him off saddle, before it galloped away. The burning sensation in his arm and the impact of this head hitting the ground was enough to make Morvran loose his consciousness, while group of bandits run from bushes, ready to rob the poor traveler, believing that he is dead.

*

(y/n) was out of her bed and in the woods, before even the sun raised from above horizon. Young woman knew that nettle gathered at dawn were the best to make brew of them. Wandering through the wet forest litter, with bow in hand and her herbs pouch hanging at her hip, she made little sound with the careful steps of her bare foots. She knew that after the war, there were a lot of bandits wandering around, along with – much worse than them – soldiers. She heard stories from the village she lived nearby. King Radovid won the war with Nilfgaard, which meant that he was focusing his attention on not only witches, but also sorcerers and herbalists. Some spoke that even nonhumans weren’t save anymore. (y/n) stopped moving hearing commotion in nearby bushes. Takin arrow out of its holder, girl carefully aimed at the spot, ready to fire.  
“Lower your arrow, it’s just me.” Quickly doing as she was told, woman huffed slightly at the sight of elf coming from the bushes, cocky smile on his long face.  
“Aelah, what are you doing? I could’ve shoot you.” Man only chuckled coming near her.  
“You couldn’t hurt a fly, even if your life dependent on it.” She only rolled her eyes. “But seriously. Mivan needs your attention. He felt sick for a few days, today it got worse.” Groaning, woman nodded and went with elf to his commando. She knew that helping scoia'tael wasn’t doing her any good, but after they run in her small hut half year ago, hiding from some dh'oine. She was terrified back then, but after some very long, and very boring time she was held hostage in her own house – while elves made sure that those who chased were gone – she tended to their wounds and gave them something to eat “for not killing me on spot” – she said back then. Since that moment, elves from commando stationing in woods were her frequent guests, which also blossomed in some kind of friendship between her and elves.  
“Why didn’t Mivan came to me in the first place?”  
“You know him. He has too much of crush in you, to show you his weakness.” At that she only rolled her eyes, fastening her steps when they neared the camp. Once she noticed her patient she furrowed her brow, crouching by his side and checking his temperature by touching his sweating, and burning, forehead.  
“Bloede Arse.” She cursed under her breath, turning to Aelah. “Go to woods, bring me balisse fruit. I also need alcohol and a bowl.” She turned back to sick, searching in her pouch. When she finally got celandine she took a bowl one of the elves gave her and started smashing it, to get as many juice of it as possible, before she poured alcohol to it. Aelah came a while later, with fruits in his palms. Woman thanked him and threw half of them into bowl to soak for a while before she smashed them and mixed it. When finished, she instructed one of the elves to pull Mivan upright before she poured the mixture into his mouth, making him swallow everything. When they laid elf back, (y/n) started to prepare the same mixture. Once finished, she tuned to Aelah, giving him bowl.  
“Give it to him at evening, and next portion in the morning. He should be fine by tomorrow’s nightfall.”  
“Thank you, Elaine. Thank you.” She patted his arm, walking past him.  
“Don’t mention it.” Once out of camp, (y/n) sighed. The problems she got with those elves.  
Woman stretched and looked at the sky. _It’s almost noon_ , she observed in shock, not sure when all this time passed. With slight scoff on her face, she made her way through woods, stopping in a moment she heard the sound of horse, nearing her. Young herbalist turned around, only to jump out of the galloping horse’s way. Animal stopped rapidly. Girl furrowed her brow. This wasn’t a wild horse, it had saddle on its back. Walking carefully to animal, woman took him by its bid and smoothed it’s neck and head, waiting until animal completely calmed. Once it was done, (y/n) looked in direction the animal came from. Horse looked too thin and too exhausted to run far from its owner…  
_I’m too kindhearted_ , thought  (y/n) pulling animal to where it came from. It took her some time, but finally she got to her destination, only to stopped dead in her tracks, horrified at the sight of dirty, bloodied man, laying in mud. Carefully she came closer, watching closely laying body, only to gasp at sight of his chest, which was moving delicately. Dropping to her knees, she exanimated man. He was wounded, shoot in his arm, with strait still in its place, there also was bruise on the sight of his head. His face was… different. Definitely not handsome, quite opposite to be honest, with his pale skin, long nose and thin lips. Not to mention the pimple on his right cheek and the weird redish-brown color of his hair. Straightening slightly she bit her thumbnail, her eyes wandering between blooding out man and horse. If she left him, she may use the horse, feed it and give it so commando, or even sell it in the village. Gods know she may use some money… yet every moral part of her brain was screaming at her for such thinking. This person needed help, he was dying. If she left him here, she would be just as bad as those who did that to him… on the other hand, she was helping the squirrels… but she only gave them medicines… Groaning she got up, looking at man one last time before she walked to horse.

*

Morvran was in pain, this one he was sure about. His arm burned in white flames of pain and his head hurt so much he saw white spots under his closed eyelids. Opening his eyes, he looked at the ceiling of wooden shack, from which a lot of various herbs were hanging. Furrowing his brow, man tried to sit, only to collapse once again with slight huff, because of burning pain in his arm. Groaning slightly he moved his good hand, wanting to touch his injured arm, but small hand smacked his, making him look in direction of where it come from. Next to the sleeping mat her was lying in, sat a young woman. Her (h/c) hair were pulled back in messy ponytail, making few locks hang around her round face on which were handful of dark freckles. Her brow was furrowed in concern, her front teeth was biting her thin bottom lip, only a shade darker than her (s/c) skin. Morvran blinked, looking at her. Who was she? _Definitely not wealthy_ , he though, looking at the dress, once probably blue, which definitely saw better days, hugging her form. She also had freckles on her forearms and those small hands, which were groping skirt of dress tightly.  
“I…” He tried sitting up again, only for her to forcefully push him back down.  
“Don’t get up. You got shot, almost bleed to death. Got a slight infection and a fever.” As if conforming her words, she putted her hand on his forehead. Morvran had to admit, she has soft hands, even though she certainly didn’t looked like it. Also her voice was smoothing his nerves, long with her (e/c) eyes, looking in his grey ones.  
“Who are you?” He asked, trying to hide his accent as much as possible.  
“Could ask you the same thing. I found you at path, wouldn’t have if it weren’t for your horse. He is here too, very weak.” She looked him over and straightened back, looking out of the window. “My name is (y/n). What’s yours?”  
“M-Marsin.” She raised her eyebrow lightly but said nothing, instead getting up and walking to small fireplace at which hang a small clay pot. While she was taking care of what was cooking inside, Morvran took his time observing her. It was obvious she was a Nordling, yet up to this moment he haven’t meet one who would have help a complete stranger. Those people were barbarians… yet she seems different.  
“I hope you are not very hungry. I don’t have more.” Her voice pulled him out of his thought, making him look at a wooden bowl she out at ground near his head. After she helped him sit, she handed him bowl and spoon, taking another one herself. Stew in a bowl doesn’t look appealing, hells it doesn’t look eatable in the first place, yet Nilfgaardian swallowed his pride and took a cautious spoon, trying not to grimace at taste. Has she even heard of spices!? Yet he said nothing, his empty stomach demanding the warm watery food he was given, so he eat, quickly and greedily. Apparently it made her happy, even though she tried not to show it, but he noticed how her eyes glistened before she looked back into her bowl.  
When they eat, sun was coming down. Woman looked at him with kind expression, asking him to lay on his side, so she may look closer at his wound, after which she informed him, that he may stay as long as it takes for him to get back to full health. Thanking her quietly Morvran lied back down, covering himself with animal skins and closing his eyes, letting the peaceful sleep take over him, for the first time in really long time.

Following days went in the similar way, for Morvran to wake up when (y/n) came back from woods, usually with various herbs, but sometimes she managed to bring a rabbit she hunted. She tended to his arm then, giving him some weird brews made of the dried herbs that hung from leaky celling, all the time telling him about how they should quickly put him in his legs. Then came time when she would leave him alone, saying that she is going to nearby village to tend to people there. At first man was almost  perfectly sure, that she would bring other people with her, to kill him, but nothing like that happened, so it put him at ease. Even though her tending worked, Morvran was sure that it would take him a long while before he would get on his own legs again, not to say about fighting. When (y/n) came back she was either, glad or not, depending if villagers decided to pay her or not. Man noticed that when they did paid, it was mostly food, sometimes some rugs, she used to sew together to make bandages or aprons. After getting back and checking his temperature, woman usually got to cook stew for them. Some were better than the first one she gave him, but this happened only on days when she managed to hunt meat to it.  
With every day Nilfgaardian found it harder and harder, not to watch a young woman tending around the shack she lived in. He even found fascinating the way she was mixing herbs with animal fat, or how she seemed to smile when he ate her food with appetite. It amazed him to no end that she was walking around woods with no boots and yet her foots looked smooth, with freckles decorating her skin even there. But what amazed him the most, was the kindness she showed him, not caring for his harsh words, which he might say, when the wound in his shoulder burned in contact with herbal lotion of her work.

Soon however, the days he spend at her shack, turned to weeks…

Morvran observed from his spot as (y/n) tied to massage her shoulder, grimace of pain clear on her face. It was after sunset, the only light in the small shack provided by the still burning fireplace, to which he gathered wood, complaining night before at the cold in the small house.  
“Come, I will massage your back.” Looking at him skeptically (y/n) moved to him, sitting right next to sleeping mat. She nearly moaned when him fingers started massaging the stiff muscles of her neck and shoulders. “Why do you sleep on ground?” She almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice, right next to her ear.  
“My only sleeping mat is occupied.” At the slight chuckle coming from him, she wanted to turn to him, but his hands stopped her, hitting just the right spot, making her shiver.  
“Who told you that there’s not enough place for two?” Before she was about to answer, Morvran pulled her down with him, covering them both with furs. “Here. Your back won’t hurt you, and there will be warmth for both of us.” Feeling his breath on her neck, (y/n) swallowed hard, her cheeks becoming warmer with every passing moment.  
Since then there was an agreement between the two, that they would share a sleeping mat, as long at both will keep his distance. None of them spoke about it, just as they haven’t said a word about (y/n) no more tending to Morvran’s arm, which completely healed, nor about from where (y/n) got clothes she gave him, much more comfortable than the rugs he was wearing at the day he was shoot.

Soon enough weeks turned into months…

Truth been told, Morvran wasn’t a countryman, nor a peasant, yet when the warm days turned into rainy ones, he took it on himself to tend to roof of the shack, that they were living in. Honestly, it haven’t went without sacrifices, mostly in form of him hurting himself with hammer, but after a week of work, the roof was no more leaking. Yet it haven’t stopped the coldness from taking over the inside of home.  
“Marsin. Hey Marsin.” Morvran opened his eyes and looked at woman, poking his arm with her finger. He just feel asleep, despite the cold.  
“What is it?”  
“I-I’m cold.” Man turned to his back, looking up at woman, whose lips indeed seemed a little too blueish, and her whole form was shaking uncomfortably. If asked, he couldn’t have answered about what took over him in that moment, yet whatever it was, it made him, catch her by the back of her neck and pull her down to him, rolling them both at the side, their legs tangled together, her hands lying flat against his warm chest, while his free one pulled her closer to him, the second one still holding her neck, while his lips moved delicately against her. He didn’t used strength, letting her enough room to stop his doings, yet when she made no move to do so, returning his actions nonetheless, Morvran felt as if something snapped inside him. He pushed her on her back, hand that was around her waist now sneaking up her inner tight.  
“Let me warm you up then.”

Things went like that for a whole year…

With her (h/c) hair let loose around her head (y/n) walked through the wood with slight smile on her face, shivering once in a while. Spring might have started, yet the early morning hours of nearing dawn were still chill, yet she paid it no mind, wanting to be in and out scoia'tael’s camp as soon as possible, to get back to her hut and Nilfgaardian in it.  
“Ah. Cedmil elaine.” Woman smiled at the sight of Aelah, waiting for her at near the camp. “You seem glowingly this morning. Have this Dh'oine of yours gave you a good time at night?” Rolling her eyes (y/n) punched elf’s shoulder slightly.  
“Hello to you too. I brought some herbs that dried this winter.” She showed him full pouch, both of them entering camp. (y/n)’s eyes widened at sight of some new faces. “You haven’t told me we are going to have guests.”  
“I didn’t know until yesterday.” Shrugging, woman walked to one of the elves and gave them pouch with herbs, turning to make your way out of the camp, only  to stop near one who played some card game. Gwent, if she remembered correctly the name, one man in village told her once. She wouldn’t have paid it much mind, if it weren’t for the deck he used. Nilfgaard… and in his hand, a card with…  
“May I look  at it?” (y/n) asked, pointing to cards. Elf looked at her for a while before nodding. Quickly she took the card and looked at the man on it. If it weren’t clothes and done hair, the similarity would be killer. Furrowing her brow, she looked at the of man on the card.  
“Since when are you interested in Gwent?”  
“Not now Aelah… Can I get this card?” Elf looked from her to his friend behind her before nodding.  
“It’s not like I liked this deck.” Nodding at him, she turned and made her way out of the camp. Aelah close behind her.  
“Do you mind telling me what’s going on with you today? You forgot your rabbit.”  
“Not now Aelah.” She quickened her pace, leaving elf behind, card in her fist.

Once in the hut, woman went to fireplace, turning her back to still sleeping man. She took a deep breath and looked at the card, now little fatigued.  
“That explains a lot.” She murmured to herself and hid it in small pocked of her dress. Swallowing slightly she undone her dress and, once in her undergarments, slipped under the covers, kissing neck of a still sleeping man, her clod nose being a contrast to her warm lips. Nilfgaardian hummed slightly and opened his eyes, looking in her eyes with mischievous gleam in his own, grey ones.  
“Good morning, dove. You got back quicker than normal.”  
“It’s still cold outside. I thought that if I get back, there will be a chance that I will be able to warm myself.” Chuckling slightly, man pushed her slightly, turning them around and hovering above her. His a little too long nose nuzzling at her neck, while his thin lips kissed and nipped at every fragment of skin they could reach, while his long, redish-brown hair tickled her. One of his hands made its way to her center, making her moan in ecstasy.  
“Morvran!” Suddenly everything stopped. (y/n) opened her eyes and looked with slight cockiness at the face of a man crouching above her. Shock wasn’t the right word to describe emotions visible on his face. Terror, unbelieving, even the slight hint of betrayal were one of the mine emotions that (y/n) could name.  
“How did you…?” Woman only rolled her eyes and rolled them, crossing her legs behind his back to keep him close to herself.  
“It’s not easy to hide Nilfgaardian accent. And no wonder you tired, after what happened. But you really believed that I wouldn’t find out?” Still holding him, (y/n) reached for her dress and pulled out the card she took from elf, showing it to him. “Such weird look as yours is hard to forget, don’t you think?” Man swallowed hard.  
“I can explain.”  
“There is nothing to explain. But you may stop trying to hide your accent from me.” She threw the card away and moved slightly, smiling when she felt his excitement on her hip. “Now, Morvran. Make love to me.” She moaned slightly his name, pecking his lips slightly.  
“A d'yaebl aep hoel.” Morvran groaned, pinning her underneath him and kissing her fierily, almost ripping her undergarments from her body.

**Author's Note:**

> A d'yaebl aep hoel (Nilfgaardian) - In devil's ass


End file.
